


burning in icy space

by laireshi



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Peter Feels, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve finds out, Tony thinks there's no place for him on Earth anymore. Peter tries to help. If only he didn't know exactly how Tony feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning in icy space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ylixia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylixia/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Сгорая в ледяном космосе](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102647) by [MouseGemini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseGemini/pseuds/MouseGemini)



> This fic was supposed to be a drabble, written for Ylixia's prompt of Peter rescuing Tony from Steve. She also wanted a happy ending and I hope I managed one.
> 
> Noha told me to read older GotG series and that's why it got so long. They have so many things in common! She also held my hand while writing this and was all around awesome. So, I blame it all on her :)
> 
> A spoiler-y for Annihilation Conquest: Star-Lord and Guardians of the Galaxy 2008 handy little post full of Peter feels that I used in this fic is [right here](http://laireshi.tumblr.com/post/81698681765/all-the-new-reasons-why-starkquill-makes-so-much).

Peter had never seen Tony quite so defeated before.

It didn't make any sense. They won. They saved the whole multiverse, apparently. Around them, the Avengers were laughing, relieved. But no one looked at Tony, and Tony stood among them, his shoulder slumped, staring at the ground, looking as if he wanted to disappear.

His armour had shorted out earlier, and he was wearing just his undersuit. He was well-muscled, but seemed very small in this moment.

The man Peter had come to know during their trip together – that man had been funny, and in a constant wonder of space. He'd joked, had been full of himself, arrogant and brave. He'd missed his planet and had tried not to show it. It'd been obvious there had been something eating at him, it had been obvious he feared something. It had been in how tense he'd gotten every time he had had a call from Earth, in how he'd looked for a solution to a problem Peter hadn't known. He'd looked afraid and guilty and resigned, but there had been light in his eyes. Not any more.

Whatever it was that he'd feared – it must have happened.

Peter looked around, debating what to do. Seeing Tony like that _hurt_. And then he noticed he'd been wrong earlier. Yes, most of the Avengers seemed to be avoiding Tony, but Captain America was staring at him and he looked almost _lost_.

Tony was looking down, but he shook himself and walked to Steve, looking every inch as a man going to his execution. It wasn't Peter's business, not really, no matter how much he might've cared about Tony, but he didn't look away. Tony said something. Steve shook his head and Tony flinched. He started talking again. Peter couldn't hear him, but he could see the anguish in his eyes.

Peter wanted to shake Steve. Whatever it was about – he couldn't imagine he could stand seeing Tony like that and not doing anything, when it was so clear Tony waited for his . . . acceptance? Forgiveness? And it was clear Steve wasn't happy, either, he looked sad, unsure, and it was so weird to see Captain America like that.

“ . . . for a reason!” Steve ended his sentence, yelling.

“You didn't leave me a choice!” Tony shouted. He then looked away and said something else, too quiet for Peter to hear.

“Then don't! I can't even, what you did, I can't – and you're _sorry_?!”

“What do you want me to say?!”

“I don't want to look at you, much less listen!”

Steve had his hands fisted, and he was shaking a bit. He seemed hurt, and Tony looked as if he wanted to cry or beg.

Peter didn't know what it was about, but it didn't matter, because Tony was brilliant and Tony was _Tony_ , and he couldn't do nothing.

But it was Tony, and he wouldn't be grateful, and so Peter couldn't do anything.

He didn't know what to do. Watching Steve and Tony shouting at each other, Steve yelling at Tony (for good reasons, it seemed), Peter just wanted to turn away. They'd understood each other without words the last time he'd seen both of them, and now . . .

“Leave it,” Carol said suddenly. He hadn't noticed her coming to him.

He looked at her incredulously. “Can you see Tony?”

She winced. “Yeah. But it won't help him if you interfere.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“You know him quite well.” Carol was surprised. She smiled, briefly, sadly. “What he did . . .” She shook her head. “Shouting has never helped them, but it's infinitely better than them not talking at all.”

“I hate –”

“I know,” Carol cut in. “I don't like seeing it either, but I won't stop them. You can talk to him later, and if you really care, you won't leave him alone, because at this rate he might just go to a pub, ” She hesitated. “He won't let me . . . Keep him safe, okay?”

“Always,” he promised, and only then realised he did mean it. He wanted to take care of Tony for as long as he could. That was . . . a bad idea, and the best one he'd ever had.

“I don't care!” Steve yelled in this moment, and both Peter and Carol flinched.

“I don't fucking care, Stark. I don't care if you're on the team, I don't care where you live, the only thing I care about is for you to disappear!”

It was weird. It didn't make sense. Steve looked hurt by what he was saying himself. And Tony took a step back as if Steve actually hit him. He probably would've preferred a punch. He said something else, too quiet for them to hear.

“You were my best friend, Tony,” Steve replied. He wasn't yelling, but his voice was still strong. “What you did to me . . . no, I don't hate you. _I don't care_. So do whatever you want, preferable far away from me, because I wish I'd never see you again.”

Steve walked away. The confrontation obviously cost him a lot, but there were people at his side. The other Avengers started walking away, until only Tony was left alone, in the darkness, his shoulders shaking.

Peter looked at Carol and she nodded.

Tony was crying, silently. His shoulders were slumped and and he was trying to calm himself down and failing.

Peter had seen enough.

“Tony?” he asked quietly when he reached him. Tony startled, took a step back, and then wiped at his face when he recognized Peter.

“It's okay,” Peter said, and hugged him.

Maybe Tony wanted to disagree, maybe something else; the moment he opened his mouth, he broke down completely. He shook in Peter's arms, and Peter ran his hand's over his back, steadily.

***

Peter wasn't sure how long it'd been when Tony pushed him away.

“You shouldn't,” Tony said.

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I won't even ask what you mean.”

Tony straightened up. “I'm fine,” he lied. “You can go.”

“You aren't and I can't.”

“Peter –”

“Carol would skin me alive,” Peter said, thinking it would be easier for Tony to accept than the truth: he worried.

“Carol doesn't care,” Tony laughed a bit painfully. “She – none of them do. And they're right to.”

 _He won't let me_ , Peter remembered Carol's words. So that was it. Tony was such an idiot when it came to people.

He looked as if he desperately needed to be alone and not to be alone. He needed someone who wouldn't judge, and he also needed someone to understand. Maybe he needed someone who didn't know.

Peter was curious, of course he was, but he wasn't going to ask.

“Tony,” he said. He took Tony's face in his hands. “It's not true. If nothing else, believe me.”

Tony took a step back. He looked away. “I wasn't there. When – when he found out. And now I made an even bigger mess out of it, and how the fuck was it even possible?” He didn't seem to be talking to Peter any more. Peter wanted to reach out and touch him, make him smile somehow, and he couldn't.

“Do yourself a favour and leave me,” Tony said suddenly.

“Let me think about it,” Peter said. “ _No_.”

Tony looked away from him. “You don't want. . .”

“Don't decide that for me,” Peter said.

Tony _flinched_. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. He was looking at Peter, but didn't seem to be really seeing him.

“It's okay,” Peter whispered, helplessly.

The worst part wasn't what Steve had yelled at Tony, clearly wounded himself, the worst part was that Tony _believed_ it.

And Peter didn't know what to do about it.

“Leave me,” Tony repeated.

“Like hell I will,” Peter snapped. He was suddenly very glad Tony didn't have his armour; Peter didn't have any doubts he'd try and fly away then.

“Peter –”

“No,” Peter said. “Tell you what, though. I will stand here with you all night, but I'd much rather we went to the ship.”

“No need,” Tony said. “I'll go ho –” he stopped himself, looked down. “I'll go to a hotel or somewhere.”

Not for the first time, Peter wanted to shake him. “I'll go with you then,” he said.

“I don't get it,” Tony said. “You should hate me. I did something unforgivable. And . . .”

“You hate yourself enough for both of us,” Peter said and wished it weren't so true. “Give it up, Tony. Come to the ship. Just for the night.”

Tony didn't look convinced, but he nodded.

***

For an attractive guy that he was, Tony sure looked horrible now. His eyes were still red from crying, he was too pale and shaking. Peter wanted to put an arm around him, but he could see Tony needed space.

Peter willed his team not to comment as he lead Tony to the ship.

“Wanna steal my tech again, Stark?” Rocket joked, and Peter knew it was meant to be an invitation, a friendly joke, but Tony just shook his head and looked away from them.

Rocket looked at Peter, and Peter just shrugged. He didn't know more, really.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

“Hiya, Groot,” Peter said. Tony was silent behind him.

Peter lead him to his room. The one that Tony lived in during his time on the ship had been Carol's, recently, and Peter wasn't sure if she moved her things yet, in between incursions and battles. And at least he was sure his own room was safe of sharp items he wouldn't trust Tony with now.

“Will you be all right?” he asked.

Tony nodded, wordlessly. He sat on the bed and stared at the wall, unseeing.

Peter hesitated for a moment, because he didn't want to leave him, except he knew Tony didn't want to be near _anyone_ , and he'd be safe here, if not from himself. Seconds before Peter closed the door, he heard Tony sobbing.

He sighed. He felt so lost, and he knew he couldn't fail, not here.

“What was it about?” Gamora asked.

He gestured at her to walk away from his door a bit before answering. “I don't know,” he said, honestly.

“Peter, I'm not telling you to throw him away, stop being so fucking defensive, but Stark is obviously not right, so what's going on?”

“Yeah, Pete,” Rocket said.

They were in what passed for the living room. Peter sighed.

“I really don't know,” he said and raised his hands to try and stop them from shouting at him. “He has some issues with Captain America.”

“Aren't they best friends?”

Peter winced. “Past tense, I'm afraid. I was down on the ground when we solved the incursion problem. Tony . . . He did something, to Steve, I've no idea what, and he blames himself a lot. And Steve is . . .” Steve was what, actually? He was acting almost contradictory. “Well, he's angry, obviously. But he also seemed hurt, a lot. It wasn't pleasant to see.” He took a deep breath. “They argued. Tony was trying to apologise, Steve was yelling at him. Some parts were pretty cruel . . . You saw him just now.”

“So are you what, putting him back together for Rogers?” Gamora asked sharply.

Peter shrugged. It wouldn't matter, really, if he saw Tony honestly smiling again. “No,” he said. “He's my friend.”

“He's our friend, but don't tell him I said that,” Rocket agreed.

“I think we should stay on Earth a bit longer though,” Peter said. “Sorry.”

He loved them, he thought, when no one even looked as if they minded.

“You're dumb, Quill. We care for him too, you know.”

Peter smiled at them, relieved, but not exactly surprised. He went with them to eat dinner, and tried not to think of Tony too much.

Later, he came back to his own room and hesitated. He slowly opened the door, trying to see how Tony was without surprising him.

He took a step back as soon as he heard Tony.

He was still crying, sobbing his heart out, so far gone he probably wouldn't notice it if Peter came into the room.

And he wouldn't want anyone else to see him like that.

Quietly, Peter closed the door.

He made himself coffee, because he didn't want to go to sleep when Tony was still awake, and waited.

“You know it'll be hard,” Gamora said. “He seemed –”

“Yes,” Peter cut in. “I know. I can't leave him.”

“What if you knew what he had done? What if Rogers had a reason . . .”

“I'm sure he had, and it doesn't matter,” he cut in.

She nodded, understanding. He finished his coffee in silence.

“I'll go check up on him,” he murmured and stood up. She looked amused and nodded.

This time, Tony was sleeping, curled on Peter's bed. Peter smiled at him, and covered him with a warm blanket. He ran a hand through Tony's hair. “There are people who care, Tony,” he whispered.

Tony slept, tears still clearly visible on his face.

***

Peter woke up to a loud _thud_. He sat up immediately and looked around.

Tony Stark has just put a coffee mug in front of him. He had on Peter's clothes, had clearly taken a shower and didn't resemble himself from yesterday at all.

Or at least until Peter rubbed at his eyes and really looked.

Tony's eyes had all of that despair in them.

“Please tell me you didn't sleep over a kitchen table because of me,” Tony said, forcing a smile.

“It's a very comfortable table,” Peter replied.

Tony rolled his eyes over his own cup of coffee. “Sorry. Thanks. Appreciated. I'm leaving.”

“No you're not.”

“Are you going –”

“Tony,” Peter interrupted him. “Tell me where you'd go and what you'd do, and yeah, fine, I'll wave good bye to you. But tell me that and be honest.”

“Not your fucking business.”

“Yes, my business,” Peter snapped. “My business, because you were on my team, and you are my friend, and it means something, so stuff it and stop running away.”

Tony laughed, an utterly empty sound. “I wiped my best friend's mind. You sure you want to keep calling me that?”

That _did_ explain Steve's reaction.

And it wasn't something Peter could ever judge him for, because he understood what whatever means necessary really meant, and he knew Tony didn't go around tampering with other people's minds for fun.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think I do.”

Tony just looked at him, something hard in his eyes. “It gets better,” he said, almost conversationally. “I deleted his memories, because we didn't agree. Because he's a good man, and he's not a murderer. Me, though, I planned to blow up a planet.” He stopped. “I'm pretty sure there was 'Guardians' somewhere in your team name. I don't think I fit in.”

“Funny thing, Stark,” Peter said, and he felt as if he was far away. “I am a mass murderer.”

Tony froze.

“It's a simple decision, really, isn't it?” Peter tried to laugh and couldn't. “Kill thousands to save millions. Kill millions to save billions. The scale doesn't matter, but you are saving more people than you're dooming, so it has to be the right thing, yes? You can't look yourself in the eyes, but you did the right thing, you know it.”

He remembered the dull horror on realising what the only solution was. He remembered looking at the peaceful colony and dooming it to death, because he'd been to proud to ask for help earlier. He remembered screams as he decimated the moon's population to save its planet. He remembered thinking it had to be worth it, that he was saving millions, that it wasn't a choice, that he had to do it. It was just one colony, full of people, that had to be sacrificed to get rid of a danger to the whole universe. He couldn't have hesitated, right?

He remembered guilt.

He hadn't – he had gotten so good at this whole 'not thinking about past' thing. Figures Tony fucking Stark would force him to . . .

Tony was very pale. “I know you,” he said. “You didn't have a choice. You couldn't have.”

Peter took a deep breath. “And you did?”

“It was different,” Tony said in a broken voice.

“How?”

“He trusted me!” Tony shouted. “He always – and I used it to do the one thing –”

“It doesn't matter if people on the team actually trust each other, if they're made to think so,” Peter whispered. Because apparently if he was going down memory lane, he was out with everything.

It wasn't a bad thing if he just sped things along with a telepath's help, he had thought. They would have agreed anyway, he'd known (hoped). The galaxy had needed a team of guardians. If he had had to tamper with his friends minds, well, it'd been for a reason, and someone had had to make the tough decisions.

Because Peter had always known best.

He didn't look at Tony. Because, with the way Tony hated himself – well, it was only understandable he'd hate Peter now.

“You wouldn't, if you didn't think you had to,” Tony said, calmly.

Peter laughed, hysterically. “Yes, Tony. Right back at you. Why is that an excuse just for me and not you?”

“I love him,” Tony whispered very quietly. “And it didn't matter then. Because I had to save the world. It doesn't matter why I did it. I did it. There's no excuse for it,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Your logic is slipping, Tony,” Peter said, carefully.

Tony looked at him with disbelief. “Fuck you, Quill,” he said.

It hurt. All these memories, brought up, when they should've remained buried. It hurt.

But when Tony fell to his knees, shaking, Peter was near him, and he kept an arm around him, and didn't even think of leaving.

***

When Tony stopped crying, when Peter wiped at his own eyes, he wasn't thinking. They were in the kitchen, so he pulled Tony to the nearest chair, put two glasses on the table and found a bottle of vodka.

And he still called himself Star-Lord. To hell with being a symbol.

He poured to glasses and downed his immediately, and repeated. He knew he wouldn't forget. He'd tried it enough times. It helped anyway.

Another glass.

He could still remember . . . Another one.

In his peripheral vision, Tony moved, slowly, reaching for a glass as if it contained poison. His eyes were _hungry_.

Just like that, Peter snapped out of his regrets, because he didn't want to add that to the list of everything he'd managed to fuck up.

He caught Tony by his wrist in the last second. “You don't want that.”

Tony seemed shell-shocked. He looked at the glass he was holding and it slipped from between his fingers and shattered.

“I _did_ want it,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I . . . ”

“I'm sorry,” Peter said. “I forgot.”

Tony shrugged. He stared into space. “I know the answer, and yet . . . Does it help?”

“For a short while.”

“I'd give a lot for a short while,” Tony whispered.

“I'm really sorry, Tony.” He poured the rest of the bottle down the sink. Everything felt disconnected.

Tony shrugged again.

“Please,” Peter said. “Don't leave.”

“You are drunk.”

“Maybe. I mean it though. Don't leave. Don't go to some hotel that's not a home. Don't pretend there's an emergency you have to handle.” If he sounded desperate . . . He was.

“Peter . . .” Tony started saying and stopped. He shook his head.

“Please.”

“I can't,” Tony said, turned back and left.

Peter didn't go after him.

Maybe he had to add Tony Stark to his list of regrets, after all.

***

“Stop wallowing in guilt, Pete,” Rocket said.

“Am not,” Peter answered.

“Sure,” Rocket snorted. “I know that look. And you haven't moved for two hours.”

“Aww, Rocky, you care.”

Rocket didn't dignify him with a response. His whiskers moved quickly. “Stark left.”

“I know.”

“Are we waiting for him?”

“I don't know.”

He wanted to. He didn't know if he should. If there was a point.

“Want me to find him? His RT leaves energy trail.”

“I don't know,” Peter said.

“ _Pete_.”

“Let's wait a day,” he said.

“If you stop wallowing in guilt,” Rocket said.

“Hey, I . . .” Rocket was looking at him and Peter sighed. "Okay.”

He hoped Tony would be back. He hoped Tony knew he was always welcome. He hoped Tony wouldn't do anything stupid.

Oh, who was he kidding.

But Tony was a grown man, and Peter couldn't make his decisions for him.

***

“You promised to stop wallowing in guilt,” Rocket said.

“I didn't even say anything!” Peter protested.

“You're interrupting game's night,” Gamora noticed. “And that for some reason you're not taking part in it goes without saying.”

He wasn't in a mood. But then, they knew it.

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, I have it ready,” Rocket said. He threw something at Peter and he caught it reflexively. “Stark's location.”

Peter looked at the device in his hand. A simple navigation unit, it seemed, coded to the RT. “Thanks, Rocky.”

“Want us to go with you?”

“He wouldn't,” Peter said.

Their ship was parked in one of Tony's hidden garages. They had, of course, got invited to stay at the Tower, but they'd had to fly enough during the crisis that it was just more convenient to stay there. Peter had never really known New York well, but he knew the basics, and anyway, it was the nav unit in his hand that was supposed to do the work.

He looked at the screen and followed the device's directions.

He wasn't really paying attention where he was going, so he found himself in a seedy looking bar with some surprise.

He would expect to find Tony in a penthouse apartment somewhere. In a lab, maybe. Hidden in his office. Not here. He looked around. The bar was full of drunk people and others on a quick way there.

It wasn't a place he wanted to see Tony in.

He'd let him leave. He'd almost made him drink, because he was too focused on himself.

It was on him.

Peter looked around, trying to spot the familiar black hair. Nothing. He looked at the nav unit, trusting it to bring him right at Tony's side even here, and, yeah. The corner.

He slowly made his way there, avoiding other people. Tony was alone, sitting at a two-places table. He had a hood pulled over his head in a rather pathetic attempt to remain anonymous. He didn't make any sign as if he even noticed Peter.

Peter pulled a chair for himself and sat next to him. “Hi.”

“Of course,” Tony said. He didn't seem drunk. Peter breathed with relief.

“I just realized,” Peter said. “I didn't actually invite you to go guard the galaxy with us this time. I thought it was pretty obvious, yeah, but maybe you needed to hear it. So, Tony?”

Tony laughed humourlessly, took a sip of his drink. Peter frowned. “Ginger ale,” Tony said. “But you offered me vodka, so really, don't judge.”

“Sorry about that.”

“So you said.”

Peter wanted to shake him. “Stop changing topic. Come with us.”

“I can't,” said, playing with his glass. He didn't look at Peter.

“Why?” Peter asked, knowing there wasn't a reason. Tony still wasn't looking at him.

“Av . . .” Tony stopped himself. “Stark Enterprises need me.”

“You've managed them from space once already.”

Tony cracked a brief smile. “I did.”

“Think of it. It might be for the best.”

“Quill. I know there's nothing left for me here. You don't have to sugar-coat it.”

Peter didn't think that, not really. If that was the problem, Tony would just go with them, and Peter wouldn't be so afraid of letting him out of sight. There were people who cared for Tony, if someone attacked Earth as it happened so often, no one would think twice of whether he was on any active team or not, and Steve – Steve would forgive him. Peter might not know him, but no one would be that hurt by betrayal if they didn't care for the person committing it. Deeply.

No, the problem was that Tony didn't see that. The problem was that Tony loved space, but didn't want to accept the invitation because he thought he didn't deserve it. The problem was how self-destructive he could get.

“Let's say you're right,” Peter said, slowly. “Why stay?”

Tony shrugged.

“Is it a punishment for yourself?” Peter asked. “Do you think you don't deserve a break?”

“And do I?” Tony's voice was cold. “Or do I deserve Captain America to behead me with his shield? Oh, he wouldn't, of course he wouldn't, but I do deserve it.

  
“Or I could just switch the RT off. Too much of a coward for that, probably.

“Or . . . I don't know, sit in bars like this one until one day I won't order a soft drink any more.”

“Or go to space and get ideas to make your planet a better place,” Peter said.

“Last time, I got ideas how to blow up an alternative version of my planet,” Tony said.

“Okay, then this time work on fixing yours,” Peter gambled.

Tony laughed sadly.

“Why do you care?” he asked.

“You're my friend, Tony,” Peter said and hesitated. “And I can imagine how you're feeling right now.”

“Yeah.” He downed the rest of his ginger ale.

“Will you come?”

“Oh, do I get a choice?”

“Do you want one?”

Tony laughed.

It wasn't ideal, but Tony walked after Peter to the ship, and it was what was important.

“Are you sure . . .”

“Yes, Tony, I am,” Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes. “No one will kick you out. Come on.”

“Thank you,” Tony said. His voice sounded terrifyingly honest.

“Hi, Stark!” Rocket called to them from the open door. “So can we go see the _wonders of space_?”

Tony tensed behind Peter. “Not yet,” he said.

“Tony . . .”

“No,” Tony said. “It's not about this. I'll go with you. But I need my armour.”

“And your armour is . . .”

Tony looked at the Tower, visible from where they were. “I'll go get it,” he said in a small voice.

“You sure?”

“I'll go, okay, it's my tower and my suit, I can do it.”

He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself rather than Peter. He sounded as if he really didn't want to meet the Avengers now. To risk running into Steve.

He also sounded as if he was decided already.

Peter watched him go.

He knew – was almost sure Tony would come back. It didn't make it any easier.

***

Tony was back. With his armour in a suitcase and a black eye.

He looked as if he wanted a drink.

“Who did this to you?”

“I deserved it,” Tony said with full conviction, and Peter decided to leave it.

“Can we go?”

“I told Pepper,” Tony said. “She . . . yeah, we can go.”

Peter put an arm around his shoulders, and led him towards the control room.

Tony still looked as if he was contemplating killing himself to finish with it all, but he stayed with them.

***

Tony seemed to relax, if only a bit, far away from Earth, from people he hurt and people who he was convinced hated him.

He took to sitting at the bridge, looking outside at the stars. His eyes were still empty, and he didn't look half as amazed as he'd used to, but he stopped walking around like a ghost, unsure of his every move, every word.

Peter wished he could believe it, but Tony had been putting on masks, real and figurative, from the moment he was born.

He was about to go and ask him to spar when the ship shook. Peter grabbed the nearest zero gravity pole to keep steady, and then run to the console, just behind Tony. “Oops,” Rocket said.

“ _Oops_?”

“I can't tell without going outside now, but I'm pretty sure we need a quick trip to a workshop.”

Peter sighed. Of course. At least they were far enough from Earth Tony wouldn't obliged to offer that.

“I'll go look,” Tony said, and run in the direction of his armour.

“I'll help!” Peter called after him.

Moments later they were outside, and Tony led them to the main engine. Peter really didn't need to be there, but he wanted to look at Tony.

Of course, Tony had on a metal mask.

Peter had never minded, especially seeing how his own suit had looked, _before_ , but he would really prefer to see Tony's face now. He was probably excited to be playing with – diagnosing – their engine, and Peter hadn't seen him genuinely excited for anything for way too long.

“Hyperdrive looks messed up,” Tony said. “Sorry, should've checked back on Earth, you were flying a lot . . .” he trailed off.

“And not using it there. Tony, not everything is your fault.”

“Stark, not your fault,” Rocket said in their comms in the same moment. “Get back inside. There's a market shop planet nearby. Should be free of Spartoi too. We'll get the parts.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Tony laughed, and Peter hoped there was honest happiness in his eyes too.

***

A market world, Peter thought, looking around. Probably an asteroid really.

Rocket and Groot went to find the parts they actually needed, Gamora and Drax to look for weapons, and Peter just wanted to show Tony around.

He'd been so amazed to see what passes for obsolete tech in places like this, last time.

And he was. He was currently looking at universal microtranslator, speaking to himself, and there was a look of intense focus in his eyes. Peter didn't have the heart to tell him they had dozens of newer versions on board. Then Tony moved further, looking at a blue sphere – a toy, really, but it could hold your memories. Tony dropped it and took a step back as soon as he heard the explanation, and Peter caught it in the last moment. They were fragile, and accidents happened.

He flashed a smile at the seller and went forwards.

They reached the weaponry part of the market, and Peter thought Tony would be interested, if only to look for an ideas to Iron Man's upgrades.

But Tony took one look at a bomb that could actually level a planet, and turned around, started walking a way.

Peter caught him by his hand a few moments later. “Tony?”

He was trembling slightly. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were just . . . empty. “Do you know,” he said. “I tried to invent a better one, myself. For my alternative home planet.”

Peter thought he could punch himself. He didn't think . . .

“Stop, Tony,” he said, quietly. “Stop punishing yourself for that.”

Tony wanted to answer, probably. But instead he shoved Peter away, and for a moment Peter couldn't see him, but he heard him screaming.

He pulled out his gun just in time to see a red-skinned thug pull back his knife. Tony fell down, and Peter could see him trying to press on the wound.

“Step away from him,” Peter said, aiming at the thug. He didn't want an all out fight on a market planet, but he wouldn't hesitate. “Gamora, Drax, do you copy?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone attacked us Tony, we're just between the tech and weaponry parts.”

“Going.”

He moved his attention back to the alien. “So is it a robbery, or what, actually?”

The thug hissed at him. Everyone around them was doing their best to ignore the situation.

“Oww, your manners.” Peter moved forward, so he was standing in front of Tony, between him and the alien.

“Not everyone loves you, Star Lord,” the alien said, and Peter's blood turned to ice.

This was different. This was different, and Peter didn't know what to do, which of the many people he harmed by some stupid ass decision, it was –

He had stabbed Tony.

“Yeah,” he said. “Villains don't. You hurt my friend.”

His gun was aimed at him, steady.

“But I don't want problems here. You can go.”

They looked at each other for a few moments. Peter knew he would fire, if that was the only way, if he had to; he'd fire without hesitation. And the alien must have noticed it, because he sneered, but then turned back and walked away. Peter watched him disappear in the crowd, his gun still up, and only then knelt next to Tony.

He was very pale. His hands were at his wound, but he wasn't even pressing any more. It was deep, he must've lost a lot of blood already –

and they were on an alien planet which probably didn't keep humans' blood bags in their medical centres. Tony was unconscious. Still breathing, but . . .

They needed to get him to the ship.

“What the hell, Peter?”

He raised his head to see Gamora and Drax. “He covered me – there's no time now. Let's get him to the ship.”

It wasn't far away; Peter carried Tony, trying not to jostle him too much, Gamora put a temporary bandage on him – where she took it from, Peter had no idea – and Drax went to alert Rocket and Groot.

Because if someone wanted to kill Peter, chances were his team was also in danger.

Back in the ship, he found a med pack set for himself, and prayed it would work, between his own half-Spartoi physiology and Tony's RT addition. Why the hell didn't they set up one _for Tony_?

He put it on him and waited.

***

“We got the parts, but Drax told us to hurry,” Rocket said. “How is Tony?”

“Sleeping it off.”

Rocket nodded. “So, what was it about?”

“Let me quote: 'not everyone loves you, Star-Lord',” Peter said.

“Ouch,” Rocket winced. “You okay, Pete?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Perks of the job, right?”

“Wouldn't call it perks,” Gamora said.

Peter smiled humourlessly. “He pushed me away, idiot. It was a normal knife. I'd be all right.”

“He didn't know that,” Drax said.

“And would it change anything?” Peter asked, quietly. He shook his head. “Rocky, how are the repairs, can you do it today?”

“Yeah, Groot will help.”

“I am Groot.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Rocket said.

Peter nodded. “That's it, I guess?”

“Sure you don't want us to check up on this guy?”

He shrugged. “He's not the first and won't be the last, what's the difference really?”

And if he alerted anyone to where they were . . . They wouldn't stay for long anyway.

“You got cynical, Peter,” Gamora said.

He flashed a smile at her. “Tell me about it.”

***

He waited for Tony to wake up near his bed in the med bay. He wanted to see he was all right with his own eyes. For now, though, Tony was still sleeping, terribly pale, but ultimately all right. The med packs were a wonderful thing. He wouldn't even have a scar.

But Peter still needed to see him awake and talking.

He invited him to space to rest. Relax. See new civilisations and help save them. Not to get stabbed, because someone hated Peter for one of the many things he'd fucked up in his life.

Tony moved. Peter looked at him in time to see him opening his eyes.

“So what happened?” Tony asked. And then, “wow, I don't feel any pain. Or pain-meds after effects.”

“That's med packs for you,” Peter said.

“Any drugs?” Tony looked worried.

 

“Nothing addictive, as far as I can tell.”

Tony didn't look convinced, but he nodded. “I remember getting stabbed in my stomach.”

“You're an idiot, Tony,” Peter said. “Yes, thank you, _I would've been all right_. Don't you ever do that again. But thank you.”

“I saw him trying to stab you, Peter, don't expect me to stand and watch –”

“I expect you not to risk your life for no reason –”

“It was for _you_ , it's a perfect reason –”

“You know as well as I do it was just an excuse –”

Peter cut himself off. It was a low blow. He knew it.

Tony stared at him disbelievingly for a moment. “Fuck you, Quill.” He stood up. Peter wanted to protest – he might have been healed, but he was just a normal human, he needed rest, he –

He didn't need people yelling at him, even if only because they were worried.

Tony stumbled, but Peter didn't move to help him, and Tony left.

Peter thought he was doing a stellar job of this whole making Tony better thing.

***

“Do you think there is a space port no one would try to kill me in?” Peter asked. Rocket snorted.

“If we travel back in time thirty years, possibly.”

Peter winced. “Thanks, Rocky, that's reassuring.”

“We're all wanted men,” Gamora said. “Since when has it stopped you?”

“Tony isn't,” Peter replied before he could think better on it.

“He's been moping in my workshop for days,” Rocket said. “I'd put a price on his head if it would make him stop.”

Peter hadn't talked to Tony since the incident at the marketplace. He wasn't sure if he wanted to, or if he'd just make a bigger mess out of things.

“Okay, since we agree there isn't a safe place in the galaxy, let's go to Knowhere,” he said.

“So you can fall for my double again, Quill?” Gamora raised one eyebrow.

He cracked a smile and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Go talk to him.”

“Where did that come from?” he asked incredulously.

“ _Quill_.”

Well. Nothing could be worse than the look she was levelling at him now, right?

***

Tony was doing . . . something to his armour. Groot stood next to him, keeping a pile of metal steady.

“Hi,” Peter said.

Tony froze in his movements. “Peter.”

“Groot, can you give us a minute?”

“I am Groot.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He waited till Groot left and then stood straighter. “Sorry.”

“It's fine.”

But it wasn't, because Tony still didn't turn to look at him. “I mean it.”

“And so do I,” Tony answered, picking up a screwdriver and poking at the chest plate aimlessly.

“We're going to Knowhere.”

Tony laughed, startled. “Is that a metaphor?”

“Knowhere, with 'k',” Peter explained. “I like the place.”

“Well, I'd better wear armour this time,” Tony said.

“ _Tony_.”

Tony sighed, turned to face him. He didn't look as if he slept much during the past few days. “Yeah?”

“You'll love the place. It's a scientific observatory.”

Tony looked doubtful. “What are the chances they'll let you in and not shoot at you?”

“Touché,” Peter said. “If nothing else, you'll meet Mantis.”

“I'm not sure I like the sound . . .”

“She's a friend.” Peter thought for a second. “A green lady. _Don't_.”

“Ah, now you warn me.”

“A telepath.”

Tony paled. “I'll pass.”

“You'll like her.”

Tony shook his head. He sat down on the floor, played with the screwdriver he still kept in his hand. Peter didn't say anything, waited instead.

“How do you . . .” Tony stopped.

“Live with that?” Peter guessed. He sat opposite Tony. “I tried running away. Didn't keep.”

“Yeah, that's helpful,” Tony said quietly.

Peter had half a mind to reach out to him and touch him, ground him here. He didn't.

“And your team . . . ?” Tony asked.

Peter shrugged. “Fell apart. Another cosmic threat arose. Came back.” If only it'd been that easy when he'd been living through it.

“Ah,” Tony said. “So I just wait for Galactus to try and eat Earth again and hope it'll be enough I'll help?”

“You did what you thought was right. It doesn't make you a bad man.”

“Victor von Doom does what he thinks is right too,” Tony said. Peter could only guess it was a villain.

“Then live and try to fix it.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Fix it.”

His knuckles were white where he kept his hands closed tight. Peter hesitated and reached with his hand, cupped Tony's cheek. “You're a hero, Tony Stark. Don't think otherwise.”

Tony didn't push him away.

***

Mantis was waiting for them in the landing dock. Of course she was. Peter hugged her welcome.

“Much as it's nice to see you, Peter,” she said, “I'm going to take Tony for a walk and you're _not_ going to spy on us and eavesdrop.”

“I would never,” he said, feigning offence. Near him, Tony was very tense.

“Come on, Tony. I won't bite you,” she said, and then glared. “And don't even think about it.”

Before he could reply, she took him by his arm and steered him away.

Well. So much for meeting old friends, Peter thought. Someone barked at his knees.

“Cosmo thought you were dead!”

He smiled ruefully. “I got better,” he said, feeling Gamora glaring at his back.

“Cosmo heard the rumour of Star-Lord, but you didn't come visit, Peter,” Cosmo said. He sounded offended.

“Sorry,” Peter offered. “Been running from my dad. Busy.”

He felt the dog in his mind, but didn't protest. “Well,” Cosmo said. “Come with Cosmo somewhere bounty hunters won't catch you.”

“Catch you later,” Gamora said.

Clearly every green lady in his life was leaving today.

***

He was a bit drunk and Rocket was on his way to outplay him for a lifetime of drinks by the time Mantis found them, Tony trailing behind her with a strange expression on his face. She had that effect sometimes.

“You'd better go now,” she said, and he sat up immediately. “A bounty hunter will look here in five minutes. He won't find you, because you'll be gone in two.”

“Fuck. Thanks, Mantis. You sure . . .”

“And I will not join your team,” she said.

Rocket ended his drink and jumped on Groot's arm. “Where's Gamora?”

“I'll find her,” Drax said.

“At the core!” Mantis called after him.

“Wait, what?” Tony asked.

“Just trust her,” Peter said. “What about you, Mantis?”

“Oh, I'll be gone in four minutes, along with Cosmo. You go alone.”

He nodded. “Bye. Bye, Cosmo.”

“Bye, Quill.”

Groot was leaving already, with Rocket at his arm. Tony stood still, looking at them all as if they were crazy. Peter grabbed him by his hand and ran.

***

“That was fun,” Peter declared, when they'd successfully left Knowhere.

“One word for it,” Tony murmured.

“What did she tell you?”

“That you'd ask, for one thing,” he said. “But that doesn't require prophetic abilities.”

“Hey!” Peter objected. “I'll have you know, I'm unpredictable.”

“And I'm a futurist.”

Rocket snorted. Tony ignored him. “And I didn't get to see the research centre,” he added.

“Sorry?” Peter offered with a laugh.

Tony seemed . . . relaxed, for lack of a better word. Peter noted to thank Mantis the next time he saw her.

“So what now?” Tony asked.

“Now you're going to share this Skrull detector specs with me,” Rocket said. “Cosmo said you had one.”

“Cosmo . . . ?”

“The dog. A telepath,” Peter said.

“Are all your friends telepaths, Quill?” Tony snapped.

“Relax, they're discreet.”

“I can see that,” Tony murmured. “Come on, Rocket. It's easy.” He resolved into scientific terms Peter couldn't understand. He shook his head.

***

Peter wasn't sure what made him wake up, but as he walked to the bridge to check their course, he was glad he did.

Tony sat there alone, looking at the stars, nothing of his earlier good mood left.

“Tony?” Peter didn't want to startle him.

Tony turned to look at him with a sad smile. “Shouldn't you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn't you?”

Tony shrugged. “Can't.”

Peter walked to him. “Wanna talk?”

“Not especially.”

“Okay.”

“You don't have to keep doing this, you know,” Tony said.

Peter didn't pretend to misunderstand. “I want to.”

“You're insane.”

“Possibly,” Peter agreed.

Tony closed his eyes briefly. “Sometimes I think I should go back,” he said. “But I don't think I want to.”

“Then don't.”

Tony laughed sadly. “It's not that easy.”

“It actually is,” Peter disagreed. “If it makes you feel better, think I kidnapped you.”

“Adding kidnapping to your resume, Star-Lord?” Tony teased.

Peter tensed. “Don't call me that,” he said. He understood he was a symbol. He didn't want to hear that name, not from Tony.

Tony looked at him sideways, but didn't say anything. They kept looking at the stars, almost magical view outside.

Peter _loved_ space.

He didn't know what changed, but in the next minute, Tony kissed him. Peter's hands went to Tony's arms, without any actual thought, and then he stopped himself.

What was he doing? Tony wasn't in any state . . .

Then Tony froze for a moment and started to back off, a half-regretful, half-rejected look on his face, and Peter couldn't stand it. He pulled him closer in again, kissed him.

Maybe Tony didn't even care it was Peter. Maybe he just wanted closeness. Maybe he needed someone to hold him.

It didn't matter. Peter never wanted him to look like he had in that split moment again.

***

When he woke up this time, he immediately knew exactly why.

Tony was trembling next to him. His eyes were screwed as in pain, there were tears on his face. He had one hand outstretched in front of himself, as if in defence, and the other gripped the bedclothes, tightly.

Peter didn't hesitate for one moment before reaching out and shaking him awake.

Tony's fist caught him in the jaw, and wow, he was stronger than he looked, but Peter had grappled with Blastaar. He'd maybe have a bruise for one day. Nothing to worry about. There was pure terror in Tony's eyes. _That_ was what worried Peter.

“Easy there,” Peter said.

“ _Ste_ –” Tony stopped himself. He was breathing fast, looking around, everywhere but at Peter.

A few moments of silence passed.

“Sorry,” Tony said. “I'm sorry. I . . .” He started to sit up, and Peter caught him, pulled him closer to himself and held.

“It's okay.”

Tony shook in his arms. “Sorry,” he repeated.

“Bad dreams happen,” Peter said, running his hands over Tony's back, trying to sooth him. Bad dreams about the man Tony admitted he loved.

So what.

He was with Peter now, and he clearly needed him.

“I didn't,” Tony gasped a few moments later. “I didn't want to . . .”

“Just a dream,” Peter repeated, and planted a kiss on Tony's head.

***

Tony wasn't meeting his eyes.

In fact, Tony hadn't looked at him since he disappeared to finish the Skrull detector for Rocket and later resurfaced with a ready device.

Peter had a feeling Gamora was laughing at them both. He didn't care.

“If that's Stark's fist on your jaw, I want to spar with him,” Drax said.

Tony shuddered.

“Shut it, Drax.”

“Really, for someone relying on his armour so much, that's not bad. Who taught you how to throw a punch, Stark?”

Tony was pale. “I was half asleep.”

Peter had a feeling Tony wasn't taking the teasing in a good way.

“All the more admirable.”

“Well, Captain America is a great teacher,” Tony snapped.

 _Ah_.

Tony looked at all of them – apart from Peter, of course – and left. Peter went after him without thinking, caught him in the next corridor.

“Yes, I know they were joking,” Tony said, still without looking at him.

“So not the issue now, Tony.”

“Why are you doing this?” Tony asked. “I'm just a liability, you don't need me, why do you . . .”

Peter put a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Did you miss the part I told you we're friends?”

Tony pushed his hand away. “I don't . . . Everyone hates me. Steve hates me. Why don't you?” he asked, sounding broken.

“I'm not him, Tony,” Peter said very, very calmly.

“I know,” Tony murmured. “But you're both better men than me.” He finally looked at Peter, lightly touched his hand to Peter's jaw. “Sorry for that.”

“Do I punch you too to get you to believe me or what?” Peter joked. “I want you here. I hope . . . You love space, I hope it's a good thing for you, but please, stop blaming yourself.”

“Did you ever stop?” Tony asked, quietly.

“It's not about me now.”

“Answer the damn question.”

“What for?” Peter asked.

Tony laughed, his voice empty.

***

 _One step forward, two steps back_ , Peter thought as Tony woke up next to him, gasping for air. He waited till Tony got his bearings again, and then draped himself over him, making it impossible for Tony to leave.

“Peter.”

“Tony.”

“Get off me.”

“I'm comfortable.”

Tony closed his eyes. “Sorry for waking you.”

“I wasn't sleeping.”

Tony looked doubtful, but it wasn't even a lie, this time.

“You're impossible,” Tony whispered.

Peter grinned down at him. “I'm trying.”

Tony took a few deep breaths. “Have you ever, say . . . seen a female version of yourself . . . saved by her husband, and sobbing over his corpse, and knowing in your world he'd rather kill you, if he knew what was happening?” Tony was very pale. “He saved their whole world. I don't think she'll ever forgive him. I wouldn't.”

Peter was silent. Cancerverse was full of horrors. But they weren't his dreams, torn from before his eyes.

“The incursions,” Tony continued quietly. “I saw so many myselves. I keep thinking of her.”

Peter tangled his fingers in Tony's hair and stroked, lightly, trying to convey with touch what he couldn't in words. Tony was tense under him, his eyes open but not seeing Peter.

Peter thought he'd do anything to take this burden off Tony. And he was suddenly so very glad he didn't have the Cosmic Cube any more, because he wasn't sure he wouldn't use it right in this moment.

“I wish I could help,” he said, involuntarily. He didn't want to say it out loud.

Tony focused on him. “You are helping,” he said, and looked as if he meant it.

***

“It's always spring here,” Peter said.

He lay on a grass meadow, his eyes squinted against the sun. It was pleasantly warm and he enjoyed the touch of wind on his cheeks.

Tony stood over him, a dark figure against the blue sky. “I can think of a hundred reasons why it's scientifically impossible,” he said.

“You're a real romantic, Stark.”

“I'm trying.”

Peter reached out and tugged at Tony's trouser leg. “Come here,” he said.

“I'm not sure. I'm kind of enjoying the view.”

Peter couldn't see for sure, but he thought Tony smirked at him. “Enjoy it from closer up.”

“Make me.”

Peter grinned up at him, sat up, and in one smooth movement pulled Tony to the ground. Tony fell, laughing, and Peter rolled over him and pinned him down. “As you wish,” he said.

Tony was smiling effortlessly, and Peter thought it was way too rare an occurrence.

“I thought you said something about enjoying,” Tony said, licked at his lower lip.

“Oh, I am.” Peter leant down to kiss him. Tony arched up into him.

***

Gamora was on their left, fighting off a group of Kree mercenaries. Groot was helping Rocket lay down explosives. Drax was on the other side, destroying the second group of mercenaries.

Outside, around the building, hundreds of followers were held off by a forcefield Tony had generated.

Tony and Peter stood over a single gem.

“The Mind Gem?” Peter frowned.

“Impossible.”

“How do you . . .”

“ _Impossible_ ,” Tony repeated, and Peter saw it, the Gauntlet over Captain America's hand, another Earth disappearing, the Gems shattering –

He gasped, took a step back, and the images disappeared.

He could hear Tony's laboured breath over the comms. “Well, it is telepathic,” Peter said.

“Clearly.” Tony's voice was tight.

 _Oblivion_ , he thought. _Rest_. _Peace_. _He couldn't sleep when he still remembered all of it, as if it'd been yesterday, and Mantis had declined, but he could use this – device on his own, couldn't he –_

And Peter heard enough, snapped out of it just in time to see Tony reaching for the bright gem, and he didn't think, he just knew he wouldn't be able to destroy the gem with his gun, but Tony _couldn't_ touch it –

Peter aimed at Tony, and fired.

The right thing to do.

***

“It's buried,” Peter made sure.

“Yes it is, Pete,” Rocket snapped. “I think you heard me the first time you asked. And I'm sure you did by the hundredth.”

“Can you get him out of the armour?” Peter gestured at Tony, lying on the floor of the ship, unconscious.

“Not before you tell me what the hell it was about.”

“I think it affected him,” Peter said, quietly.

“ _Affected_.”

Peter shrugged. Rocket sighed and went about extracting Tony from his suit, complaining about hairless apes under his nose. Peter wasn't sure he had the right to stay and watch, and then to wait at his bedside for Tony to wake up – he'd hit him too strongly, maybe, but he couldn't let him –

“Fuck you, Quill,” Tony said.

“I won't apologize for that,” Peter said.

“It wasn't your choice!”

“And you weren't in any state of mind to make it for yourself!”

“Because you always know best,” Tony mocked. He sat up, winced.

“Was it even your idea or this device's?” Peter shot back at him.

“Does it matter?” Tony moved to stand up, and Peter put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to the bed.

“I think it does.”

“Mantis wouldn't have,” Tony whispered.

Peter looked at him, incredulously; he'd hoped that part wasn't true. “Of course she wouldn't,” he said.

Tony looked him straight in the eyes. “Yeah, that's right, I forgot, she only tampers with minds when it's you asking,” he said, and Peter stumbled back as if burned. He took a few more steps away of Tony, afraid he'd hit him if he didn't, and didn't say anything, anger and hurt mixed too much.

Tony seemed as shocked as Peter felt, but he gathered himself quickly and left, and Peter was left frozen, staring at the door.

***

He slept alone for the first time in days. “Tried to” would be more accurate, really; stupid as it was, he'd gotten used to Tony lying next to him, even if he did end up woken by his nightmares more often than not.

He should've left him on Earth. He shouldn't have gotten attached to someone as fucked up as he was.

Too late now.

Tony's shirt was on his pillow. Peter threw it at the wall. It didn't help.

No one said he couldn't want to forget, he thought, went to the kitchen, and broke out a bottle of hypervodka.

***

Someone nudged him awake. He moaned and fought to keep his eyes closed.

“You know, Pete, I'd be offended,” Rocket said. “Drinking without me.”

“Whaddya want,” he murmured. His head hurt.

“Don't know. Any particular reason you drank yourself unconscious and Stark left?”

Peter thought he should feel something. He didn't.

“Felt like it,” he said.

“Is it about Aazg? I'd be angry too if you shot me, but I'm not sure I trust him in space on his own.”

“He can make his own choices,” Peter said, not standing up. He wondered if there was a chance Rocket would leave him alone.

“. . . what happened?” Rocket asked.

Peter shook his head and regretted it immediately. He'd managed to forget the joys of hungover.

“I should offer to throw him out an air lock if he hadn't left already, right?”

Peter told himself he didn't care.

He didn't care when Gamora stared at him for five minutes straight.

He didn't care when Drax told him they didn't leave their own.

He didn't care when Groot repeated “I am Groot” and tried to ruffle his hair with his branch.

He just didn't care.

***

Days passed. He didn't care.

***

“Hey, Pete,” Rocket said.

“Yeah?”

“I listened on the intergalactic channels. Word is someone found the Spartoi prince.”

Peter blinked looked around him. Nope, definitely on his ship. “I think we both see it's not true.”

“Think of another person registering as a human in these parts,” Rocket said.

Peter had spent the last two weeks not doing that. He wasn't about to stop. “He's not me. He's not even similar.”

“He's human.”

“He's not me,” Peter repeated. “They're out of luck.”

“ _He_ 's out of luck,” Rocket said. “Because he's not you, so they won't have a reason not to kill him.”

He had a point, Peter thought. _Fuck_.

“So whatever he did –”

“Yeah,” Peter cut in. He wouldn't take relationship advice from a raccoon. Even his best friend. “I know.”

***

“They're Skrulls,” Gamora said.

“We have a detector,” Rocket noted. “Courtesy of Stark.”

“And we're saving him, we're even,” Peter cut in. “Drax, you ready?”

“Always.”

“Rocket, the shields?”

“Why are you asking?”

Peter steered their ship closer to the Skrull's transporter. “Let's do it.”

Drax and Gamora were already out.

Peter went after them.

***

There was a lot of green bodies on the floor.

“You never leave any fun for me,” he complained, but Gamora, as always, ignored him on the comms while working.

It wasn't a big ship. He suspected he might be looking at the whole crew of it. He slowly moved forward, gun at the ready.

“Two levels down, Peter,” Gamora said in his ear. “Everything's secure.”

He told himself he didn't quite run, but he definitely came to a dead stop when he saw her and Drax.

And, well, Tony.

For a terrible moment he thought they were too late, that the hunters had noticed it wasn't quite the human they needed. That Tony was dead, because of him. Because he took him to space, and he let him leave, and he was wanted everywhere. Then he registered Tony was still breathing. He let out a sigh of relief and knelt next to him. Of course, if he was breathing . . . No matter how much Peter wanted to just take him from there, he couldn't take chances. He fumbled for the Skrulls detector and aimed it at Tony.

Blue light illuminated his injuries, and he was as human as he seemed. Peter pocketed the device and let himself look.

Tony was shirtless. His chest was bruised and full of cuts. None of them seemed deep, but the sheer amount had to be dangerous. His hands were chained to the wall over him and one seemed sprained, maybe broken. He had a black eye and a split lip. Peter supposed he should be thankful the Skrulls didn't try to take the RT out.

He should have gone after him the second Rocket told him Tony left.

Peter hesitated, fingers almost at Tony's face, and he drew back. “Can you cut through the cuffs?” he asked, pulling out a spare oxygen mask.

“Take a step back,” Gamora said and sliced her sword right through the metal.

“Find his armour,” Rocket said in his ear.

Ah. Of course.

“Drax?”

“Yeah.”

Peter put the mask on Tony's face, as gently as he could. “I'm taking him back,” he said.

“We got it,” Gamora answered, and he gathered Tony up and made his way back to the ship.

***

He waited for Tony to wake up. _Again_. The repetition didn't make it any easier. It didn't help guilt eating at him. It only made him worry more, because how many times could they get lucky? Which injury would be the last?

He'd thought at one point that Tony tried to get hurt in his quest for punishment. Maybe he did. But today was on Peter.

“You're wallowing in guilt again,” Rocket said.

Peter glanced down at him. “It's my fault.”

“He can make his own decisions, as you said.”

Peter shrugged. There were his decisions, and then there was getting mistaken for Peter. “How's his armour?” he asked.

“He'll have great time repairing it.”

Peter smiled. “Probably.”

When he got better, because there was only so much the med packs could do, and while most of the injuries were gone, Tony would have to wait for his arm to heal.

“Get some sleep, Pete.”

“I . . .”

“I mean it.”

Peter nodded. He wouldn't sleep, but maybe it was for the best Tony wouldn't see him after waking up.

***

Someone poked at his arm. Peter grumbled and try to move away, in vain.

“Leave me.”

“Nope,” Tony said.

Peter sat up immediately. Tony was pale, and his right arm was in a sling, and he was looking at Peter with a serious expression.

“Tony,” he said.

Tony looked away. He bit at his lip. “So,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry?” Peter said, a bit lost.

“I was angry, but that's no excuse.” Tony looked uncertain, as if expecting Peter to throw him out.

Ah. Their argument. Peter shook his head. “It's okay.”

“It's . . .”

“It's okay,” he repeated. “I'm glad you're fine.”

“Thanks for that,” Tony said.

Peter reached out a hand, and Tony took it with some hesitation. Peter tangled their fingers together. “You're staying here,” he said, and Tony gave him a weak smile in reply.

***

“It's always summer here,” Peter said. He lay shirtless on the warm sand.

“You're making it up, Quill,” Tony said. He stood over Peter, still fully clothed, and didn't seem to mind the temperature.

“Why would I?” Peter asked. “The universe is full of wonders.”

“That it is,” Tony agreed. “I'm looking at one.”

Peter grinned. “Oh, stop or I'll blush.”

Tony sat next to him and touched one hand to his chest, over his heart. “Is there a place that's always autumn?” he asked, quietly.

Peter shrugged. “Probably.”

“What about winter?” Tony's voice was too quiet.

Peter sat up and kissed him. “We're not going there,” he promised. Tony leant his head against Peter's forehead.

“No?” he seemed unsure, terribly so.

“I'm not letting you go,” Peter answered.

**Author's Note:**

> There's more starkquill fics and drabbles at my tumblr, [here](http://laireshi.tumblr.com/tagged/starkquill) :)


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